Safe Haven
by raindrops and daffodils
Summary: Maura and her six year old son Finn escape the mob and take refuge under the protection of US Marshal Jane Rizzoli. Slow burn Rizzles. Please Review!
1. Chapter 1

**Description:** Maura and her six year old son Finn escape the mob and take refuge under the protection of US Marshal Jane Rizzoli.

 **Note:** I know I have an unfinished story with horrendously long wait times between chapters, but this idea popped into my head on the bus this morning and I couldn't not write it!

All the usual disclaimers; any characters you recognize are not mine.

...

The quarter moon cast a dim glow through the grimy sunlight, illuminating the path of the tightly bundled mother and son as they hurried silently through the dilapidated warehouse. A thick layer of dust muffled their footsteps, and there appeared to be not another soul in sight, but the woman remained tense with anxiety and held the boy's hand tightly.

"Where are we going, Mommy?" The little boy looked up at his mother with wide green eyes and a furrowed brow.

"Hush, darling."

Maura squeezed her son's hand ever more tightly and led him around yet another pallet loaded with dusty boxes of cheap plastic toys. Maura breathed a short sigh of relief; barely twenty feet in front of her was the door. As she approached it, taking care to maintain the near silence of her steps, she allowed a short sigh of relief to pass through her lips. Only twenty feet left, a dash across the narrow lane, and a squeeze through a gap in the chain link fence and she would be free. Twenty feet and her son would have a chance at a peaceful life. Twenty feet—

A shadow loomed across their path and Maura stopped short, pulling her son close into her body. They were so close.

A flashlight flickered on and its beam swept across their faces, quickly shutting off when they were recognized.

"Maura? Finn?"

Maura swallowed as her eyes re-adjusted to the darkness. Her eyes first fell to the flashlight, which she now realized was strapped atop a shiny Glock. Stiffening, but taking some small comfort in the limpness with which the gun was held at the man's side, Maura raised her gaze until finally she could make out a shadowy but familiar face. Dexter O'Shea was looking back at her with a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and hurt at her betrayal. One emotion, she noted, was missing: anger.

A tiny spark of hope sprouted within her and she made a decision. Holding her son ever more firmly to her side she spoke pleadingly, "Dex..."

Before she could say anything further, the man shoved his hand in his pocket and Maura flinched, certain he would pull out a cell phone or radio, with which he would call her father and report her attempt at escape. Instead, he retrieved a wad of cash and slowly approached her. He pressed it into her gloved hand, kissed her cheek, and placed his hand on Finn's head.

"Good luck."

With that, Maura stumbled towards the door, pulling her son behind her. By some miracle, they made it across the lane, through the fence, and into the adjacent lot without seeing another of her father's watchmen.

Snow crunching beneath their feet, Maura urged Finn to quicken his pace as they crossed the properties of three more warehouses before finally reaching one that was in operation. She had not had time to do a proper reconnaissance, but, drawing from her thirty one years of experience frequenting similar warehouse districts, was reasonably certain that there would be only one or two inexperienced security guards for the building. She was also reasonably certain that if either guard saw her, they would not hesitate in sharing every detail of any interaction with her father's... interrogators.

Keeping closely to the perimeter of the lot, and out of the range of security lights, Maura was grateful for Finn's ability to keep quiet. Though only six years old, he was adept at reading situations, and must have known that stealth was essential. Within minutes she spotted what she had been looking for: a rusty car sat alone in a tiny parking lot. If Maura believed in God she would have thanked Him, for not only was the car old enough to have manual locks, but it was far enough from the security lights to provide some cover.

Maura and Finn continued their slow shuffle along the edges of the lot until they were as close as possible to the unattended vehicle. About forty feet.

Maura crouched next to her son and placed a hand on each shoulder, "Finn," she said, somehow both firmly and gently, "we need to run very fast to that car; as fast as you possibly can, but you must be careful not to make any noise or slip on the ice. It's very important. Do you understand?"

Finn's brow remained furrowed, but he nodded his understanding. Maura straightened and unzipped her jacket just long enough to retrieve an unwound metal coat hanger she had tucked under her sweatshirt. Quickly re-zipping her jacket against the frigid December air, she reached down to take her son's hand in hers once more.

"Are you ready?"

The boy nodded resolutely, and together they stepped away from the fence and broke into a run. Very quickly they approached the car, and Maura guided Finn to the front passenger side door. Inserting her makeshift slim jim, Maura fiddled the coat hanger until she felt the catch of the locking pin. Within just a few moments, Maura had the door opened and she ushered Finn inside, hurrying around to the driver's side, and motioning for Finn to unlock that door as well. After glancing quickly around to make sure that the coast remained clear and they had not attracted the attention of any security guards, she ducked under the wheel.

She had jimmied the lock with the ease of an expert, having learned that skill at seven years old, but hotwiring a car was something she had never done. She had very quickly developed a strong moral code and soon after learning to pick locks had resolutely refused to learn any more criminal skills. With a deep breath she pulled off the cover of the steering column and pulled the bundle of wires toward her. The previous evening she had logged onto her laptop and searched and memorized seven different ways of hotwiring cars as well as which methods were recommended for thirteen different categories of cars. She carefully—but quickly—separated out the appropriate wires, snipped them, twisted them, and finally, finally, sparked the car into life.

Sitting up again in her seat, she fastened her seatbelt and instructed her son to do the same. As soon as Maura flicked on the headlights she caught sight of a security guard staring back at her in astonishment. Before he had even the chance to raise his radio to his lips, Maura had jerked the steering wheel, broken through the flimsy tollgate, and was rumbling through a maze of warehouses. Following the map she had memorized the previous evening, Maura drove quickly and efficiently out of the warehouse district, and did not dare to remove her foot from the gas pedal until they had merged onto the freeway.

After several minutes of driving in silence, Finn spoke for the first time since asking Maura where they were going. "Mommy..."

"Yes, darling?"

"We're going away forever, aren't we?"

Maura sighed softly, and glanced over at her son. He had removed his knitted hat and was looking at her through his mass of brown curls, which fell past his shoulders. Out of fear that they would be caught, or that she would lose her nerve, she had not given him any warning about the escape; he had inherited her inability to lie, and she had deemed it not worth the risk of exposure.

"Yes sweetheart," she said finally, returning her gaze to the road ahead, "we're going away forever."

...

 **Note:** I know, no Jane in this one, but I promise she's coming soon!

I'm not entirely certain where this is going yet, so comments/ suggestions are welcomed.

Thanks for reading

-R&D


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** Wow! The response to this story has been incredible. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, favourited, or followed. I'm really enjoying this story so far, and I'm hoping to continue posting at least once a week.

Enjoy!

….

It was nearing dawn when Maura and Finn reached the outskirts of Boston. Maura knew that very soon her father would become aware of her disappearance, if he did not already know. When that happened it would become even more unsafe to be driving a car stolen from near the warehouse. Maura knew she would have to dump the car, but glancing over at Finn, who had finally succumbed to his exhaustion and was sleeping against the passenger window, she hesitated. She did not want to put him through the process of stealing another car, nor did she want to go through with stealing another car. She had sworn off crime when she was seven years old, and was extremely unhappy that in order to save her son from a life of crime she had had to commit a few of her own.

Remembering the cash that Dex had pressed into her hand, Maura calculated the distance remaining until she reached the Courthouse, where she knew the US Marshals to be housed. She could not go through the regular channels at the police station, because she knew her father had at least a dozen officers of different ranks and divisions on his payroll. In all likelihood, he had contacts within the Courthouse as well, but only administrative clerks and the like. Nowhere was safe, but the Courthouse was still safer than the police stations.

As Maura focused on calculating the remaining distance and the cost of a taxi, factoring in a tip so as not to draw attention, she debated the risk factor of allowing the safety of her son to depend on a taxi driver. If she gave in and hailed a taxi, they would be at risk of being seen on the side of the road, not to mention the inevitability of the driver later telling her father of where she had asked to go. However it was highly likely that her father would figure out her destination regardless; he was a very smart man after all.

Just as Maura resolved to ditch the car and hail a cab, she saw red and blue lights flash in the rearview mirror and heard the rising wail of a siren. In an instant, Finn sat up straight and looked at her fearfully; living with the mob had conditioned a certain panic to erupt at the sound or sight of law enforcement. Swallowing thickly, Maura removed one hand from the wheel—despite statistical evidence insisting on the 10 and 2 method as the safest—and gripped Finn's hand, whether to comfort him or herself she did not know.

Fully accepting that she could not attempt to evade the police car, which was already quickly approaching, Maura pulled onto the curb, the nose of the car just breaching the entrance to a Denny's restaurant.

As the police officer exited the car, she felt Finn's hand quiver in hers.

"Mommy?"

Maura turned to look at her son, and seeing the tears welling in his eyes, reached over to press her lips to his forehead. Unable to lie, she did not tell him that everything would be alright, for she did not know that it would be. Instead, she held his gaze steady in hers until there was a sharp tap on the window behind her.

Without letting go of Finn's hand, Maura swiveled in her seat and, with her jaw clenched and shoulders tense, rolled down the window to reveal the face of the officer.

"Can I see your license and registration, Ma'am?"

Maura said nothing, and simply returned the officer's gaze. He was younger than she had first thought, perhaps in his late twenties with dark hair and a clean shaven face. His bone structure indicated Italian descent, and his countenance was kind, though that did not preclude him from being on her father's payroll. His name badge read _Rizzoli_.

Frowning at Maura's lack of response, Officer Rizzoli spoke again. "This car was reported stolen from a warehouse in Pittsfield last night. Do you know anything about that?"

Despite her preparation, Maura had not been able to formulate a plan for what she would say to law enforcement should she be intercepted before reaching the Courthouse. Sighing, she decided to take a chance. She had not, after all, come across the name Rizzoli in her father's records; perhaps he was not on the payroll.

The officer appeared to be growing frustrated, but before he could speak again, Maura cleared her throat. "I stole this car approximately two hours and thirty seven minutes ago."

Officer Rizzoli raised his eyebrows in surprise, this was apparently not what he had been expecting. Gathering her courage, she began the speech she had prepared for the US Marshal. "My name is Maura Doyle, and I am the undocumented daughter of Patrick Doyle, Irish mobster. I wish to escape this life and enter the protection of the US Marshals. I am willing to testify to everything I have witnessed during my time with the mob."

If the officer had looked surprised before, it was nothing compared to how he looked when Maura finished speaking; his mouth hung open and he was looking at her with astonishment. Though Maura abhorred guessing, she was willing to bet that Finn's face bore the same expression behind her. Rule number one of life with the mob: _never_ reveal your identity.

"Officer Rizzoli," Maura began again as the officer firmly closed his mouth and tried to neutralize his expression, "You must understand; my father has many officers on his payroll, and it would not be safe for me to enter the police station. Even now, he has probably risen to find my sleeping place empty and has alerted those he will task with bringing me home. My son and I need to get to the Courthouse as soon as possible."

The officer pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly torn, before nodding and flicking the switch on his radio. Telling the dispatchers to disregard his last report, he looked past Maura and smiled kindly at Finn, who squeezed Maura's hand tightly in response.

"Alright ma'am," he said, returning his gaze to Maura, "I'll take you where you need to go."

….

 **Note:** Okay, so still no Jane, but I _promise_ she'll be in the next chapter.

Please review and tell me what you think, hearing from you folks always makes my day a little brighter :)

Love,

R&D


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Somehow I managed to post this early, before it was finished, so to the guest that commented on its length, sorry! It was definitely super short when I posted, but just because it wasn't finished :)

..

The cruiser rolled to a stop in front of a squat brownstone in Back Bay, and Maura, holding Finn tightly to her side, stared up at the row of windows on the third floor. She could see a soft flickering light in the second window from the right; likely a television, judging by its bluish hue. The other windows were dark. Maura's gaze was drawn back by Officer Rizzoli swiveling around in his seat to shoot them a reassuring smile.

The young man had earned her conditional trust when he had told his superiors to disregard his sighting of the stolen car, but when he had said his sister was a US Marshal, Maura's suspicions had re-heightened. However after doing some quick mental calculations she had determined that there was indeed a possibility, no matter how slim, that the officer was telling her the truth, especially considering the high frequency of siblings' mutual involvement in law enforcement. This, coupled with the fact that the Courthouse did not open for another three hours, convinced Maura to allow the officer to take them into the relative safety of his cruiser, with just two conditions: First, that he had to keep the back windows rolled down—no matter how cold—so that she and Finn could open the doors from the outside and escape should he betray them; and second, that he had to establish the truth of his sister's identity and occupation before Maura would allow herself and Finn to be led to meet her.

Maura was sincerely hoping that she had not misjudged the young man, but Finn's stiff shoulder pressed into her ribs reminded her what was at stake.

"Officer," she clipped, "Please put your phone on speaker so that I can be more certain of our safety." _So that I can be certain you are not setting us up for a trap._ Maura knew her true intent could be heard, but refused to apologize. Finn was what had gotten her to flee from the only life she had ever known, and Finn's safety was all that mattered now.

Rather than becoming offended at Maura's tone, Officer Rizzoli smiled good naturedly and lifted his phone so that she could watch him punch in a number and shift the call settings to speakerphone.

After a few short rings, a raspy voice emanated from the phone.

"Rizzoli."

Maura could hear the sleep in the woman's voice, as well as the muffled sounds of a television playing in the background. Glancing up at the windows again, Maura relaxed slightly when the cessation of the background noise coincided with the disappearance of the flickering lights.

"Janie, hey—"

"Frankie, what the hell? It's—" Maura could hear some fumbling, followed by some muffled swearing. "It's not even six in the morning. On my day off!"

"Listen Jane, it's worth it. I'm outside with a woman who—" the officer clamped his mouth shut at Maura's sharp glance. Rule number two of life with the mob: no important details over the phone.

"I- never mind. Just state your job."

"What the—"

Maura could clearly hear the annoyance in the woman's voice, but the officer seemed unperturbed. "Just _do_ it."

"I'm a Marshal, Frankie, you _know_ that."

"Yeah," Frankie met Maura's eyes expectantly and visibly relaxed when she gave him a terse nod. "Listen Janie, we need to come upstairs."

"Come up...Frankie!"

The officer hung up and shot Maura and Finn one more smile before getting out of the car and coming around to let them out of the back seat. Maura stepped gracefully onto the sidewalk and Finn clambered out behind her. His hat was slightly askew, and his long curls gathered on his forehead, resting messily above his wide green eyes.

Gesturing for Officer Rizzoli to proceed without her, Maura crouched in front of her son, pushed his hair away from his face, and repositioned his hat more securely on his head.

"Mommy..."

Though she knew it was anatomically impossible, Maura felt her heart break at the tears crystallizing on her son's lashes. Swallowing thickly, she placed a hand on Finn's cheek and gave him a small smile.

"I know, bug. Mommy's scared too. Do you trust me?"

Maura's smile widened slightly when Finn nodded without hesitation. "Alright, baby, then take a deep breath... that's it, and let's follow Officer Rizzoli."

..

Maura stood slightly behind the officer, holding Finn's hand tightly, as he knocked lightly on the door. As they waited for Marshal Rizzoli, Maura found herself wishing she had allowed her father to give her just a little more training. As much as she had tried to take note of all exits, she felt woefully unprepared should there be a trap waiting beyond the green door, and her uncertainty only increased by the feeling of Finn pressing himself into her side. He trusted her to take care of him, trusted her absolutely, and she had allowed him to spend the first six years of his life in the mob. The _mob._

That thought, coupled with a deep breath, strengthened Maura's resolve, and she squared her shoulders just in time for the door to swing open and reveal the wildest woman Maura had ever seen. Her hair fell in untamed curls down her back, her t-shirt fell loosely from her shoulders, and grey sweats hung from her narrow hips, pooling over socked feet. When her gaze met Maura's, Maura noted confusion, exasperation, and intrigue, and as she stepped into the small apartment with Finn close behind her, Maura could not help but feel a sense of security wash over her. Somehow, in the company of these raven-haired strangers, she felt safe.

..

With Finn perched on a stool at the kitchen counter equipped with toast, orange juice, and a wire notebook to draw in, Maura followed the officer and marshal into the adjoining sitting area, grateful for the layout that allowed her to simultaneously face the door, the Rizzolis, and keep an eye on her son.

"Alright Miss Doyle, tell Jane what you told me."

Maura took a deep breath, tore her eyes away from her son, and focused her gaze on the marshal.

"My name is Maura Doyle and I am the undocumented daughter of Patrick Doyle, Irish mob boss. I grew up in and around Boston, and was privy to most of the inner workings of the Irish mob. I know about most of the safe houses, contacts, and crimes of my..." Maura trailed off, the word _family_ stuck in her throat, and found her gaze drawn back to Finn. He was bent over his notebook, but she could tell from the stiffness in his shoulders that he was hanging onto her every word. Speaking to the police was a betrayal of the worst kind; Maura was raised to know that, and she was certain Finn had learned the same. She had tried so hard to protect him, to keep him close to her, but she could not always have him by her side, and that was why they had had to leave. Finn was too good, too pure. He deserved so much more. _He_ was her family, not Patrick Doyle.

Clearing her throat, Maura met the marshal's eyes. They were warm, encouraging, and strong, and exactly what Maura needed to continue speaking.

"I want to enter the Witness Protection Program," she stated firmly, "and I know enough to make it worth your while."

The woman opposite her seemed deep in thought, and Maura found herself hoping she had been convincing enough. She could not imagine her case was a common one, and she knew that no one had ever heard of Paddy Doyle having any daughter, but as the minutes dragged on she hoped that her sincerity showed, hoped that the marshal would believe her, because if after all this, she and Finn left the apartment unprotected... she knew what her father's men did to traitors. They would not make it to sundown.

And then finally, the woman spoke.

"Okay."

It was just one word, but it was spoken with such resolve and finality, Maura felt it in every pore of her body.

 _Okay._

They were going to be protected.

 _Okay._

They were going to be safe.

 _Okay._

Finn, dear, darling Finn, was going to have a chance at a normal life.

"Okay," Maura replied, "okay."

..

 **AN:** There you have it! I've already got the next chapter mostly laid out in my mind so hopefully it won't be too long of a wait for the next update.

Reviews are golden.

Love,

R&D


	4. Chapter 4

Hey all! Sorry for the long wait on this one, but despite the lengthy breaks I am excited about this story and won't give up on it. Hope you enjoy!

..

Gratefully accepting a steaming mug of coffee, Maura wrapped her delicate fingers around the warm porcelain and spoke softly, "Thank you, Marshal." She raised her eyes to meet the marshal's in an attempt to silently convey the depth of her gratitude. The woman seemed to understand because she smiled warmly in response.

"It's Jane."

 _Jane_. Jane Rizzoli. Simple, yet strong. Maura could already tell how fitting the name was and smiled in return.

"Maura."

Though slightly disappointed when Jane broke eye contact, Maura nevertheless allowed her smile to widen when the woman addressed her son cheerfully.

"And you, you must be Finn."

Maura felt her son tense beside her and lay a hand comfortingly on his forearm. She could count on one hand the number of people Finn had directly interacted with beyond the confines of the mob, and his social skills were lacking nearly as much as his mother's.

"Yes ma'am."

If Jane was taken aback by the young boy's terse formality, she did not show it, and merely continued to speak with good natured ease. "My name is Jane. It's really nice to meet you and your mom. Are you a Red Sox fan? I've loved the Sox since I was a kid. This one time—"

Jane seemed entirely unbothered by Finn's lack of verbal response and merely continued to ramble on until Maura could feel her son's shoulders begin to relax. Finally, a hint of a smile emerged at Jane's recounting of the time she caught a home run on her eleventh birthday—an event that she lauded as her finest hour. Maura found herself smiling alongside her son; this woman, both strong and gentle, warm and fierce, was an enigma.

As Finn relaxed, Maura allowed her attention to wander and she refocused on the young officer, who had bade her call him Frankie. He was bustling about Jane's cramped kitchen, muttering under his breath about some sort of styrofoam temple in the refrigerator. Just as Maura resolved to sneak a peek at such a structure, she realized that Frankie was trying to make them breakfast and found herself rising swiftly to her feet.

It was suddenly too much; too domestic; too... comfortable.

Rule number three of life with the mob: never pause, never stop.

They had stopped, and Maura found herself gripped by a sudden panic.

She had run away from the mob.

She had fled her life and all its familiarity; she had fled and dragged her son into this... this... _something_ that she had no idea how to handle, over which she had not even an ounce of control.

Maura had always been baffled by social interactions, preferring books to reality, the written word to spoken conversation. Life with the mob was anything but predictable, but at least she knew what to _do_ there, at least it had _rules._ Here, however, in this cramped kitchen with an enigma of a woman and a boyish, friendly police officer she had no idea, no frame of reference, and they had veered so far off script...

Maura found herself choking on air, unable to focus on the concerned faces of the Rizzolis. Shadows encroached her vision and her fingers tingled. She was going to pass out. She was going to pass out in this strange place with these strange people and the floors were made of tile and the chances of her blacking out from her skull hitting tile were 73% higher than if the floored were carpet and she was not breathing, she was not breathing and the room was spinning and she was going to pass out and—

"Mommy?"

A small, warm hand wrapped around three delicate fingers and Maura found herself re-anchored to the earth. A deep breath passed through her lungs and she exhaled heavily.

"Finn."

Dropping her forehead to rest against her son's, Maura locked her hazel eyes with his green in their private means of silent, mutual comfort. After a few long moments, she shifted, pressing her lips into the masses of curls atop Finn's head, and raised her gaze to see Jane, eyebrows furrowed, looking at them in confusion and concern.

"Maura."

Her voice was gentler than Maura could have ever imagined, her mouth forming around that one word, those two syllables, as though they carried all the possibility in the world. Somehow, Jane had packed a thousand questions into a simple uttering of her name.

It was Maura, are you alright?

And Maura, what can I do to help?

And Maura, what _happened_ to you?

Knowing she could not answer any of those questions in front of Finn, Maura allowed herself to be led into an adjoining alcove, just out of sight of her son. As soon as he disappeared from view, Maura felt her muscles tense and tried to focus on her surroundings in a valiant effort to avoid another panic attack.

Taking up most of the space was a large blue mannequin of some sort, with a grey and white target painted on its battered chest, which Jane pushed out behind them into the already crowded kitchen. Against the back wall was a tiny desk piled with file folders, envelopes, a heavy duty laptop, and a webcam. On a shelf built into the wall just above was a built in safe. All in all, it was the most cramped, confusing little space Maura had ever seen, but it was only once Jane pulled the chain on the bare overhead bulb that she realized the woman had converted her pantry into an office.

Though slightly impressed at Jane's ingenuity, Maura could not help but feel tense at their forced proximity; tension that just marginally dissipated at Jane's awkward chuckle and nearly incomprehensibly murmured apology. However, Jane sat on the small stool in front of the desk and allowed Maura to remain closest to the exit, which calmed her significantly enough that she could focus on the marshal's next words.

"You probably know that this whole situation is about two miles north of protocol."

"Actually," Maura found herself replying, "According to my calculations, based on improvised data though they may be, we are currently about three and a half miles _west_ of the Courthouse." At Jane's baffled look, though, she backtracked. "Ah, you were merely using a figure of speech. I apologize, I tend to be very literal."

Ignoring the amusement colouring the darker woman's features and the suddenly too-clear memories of the bemusement and annoyance that so often mocked her as she grew up, Maura pressed on.

"Yes, I am aware that our present situation is distinctly out of the norm, but my father has many government employees on his payroll, and though I am reasonably certain he does not have any high ranking officials in the US Marshals indebted to him at this time, I could not pass up the opportunity to access security without risking exposure at the Courthouse. Frankie indicated that you would be able to provide that security with minimum risk, and so I allowed him to guide us here. I gather from your reception that this was true?"

"Frankie's a little optimistic, but yeah, that's mostly about right. I'm going to call my Captain and try to avoid having to bring you into the Courthouse. If all goes well, we can be on our way to a safe house by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow..." Maura trailed off. Never before had the word held such a sense of possibility.

Tomorrow.

..

Reviews are golden.

R&D


	5. Chapter 5

Safe Haven Chapter 5

"… _if all goes well, we can be on our way to a safe house by tomorrow."_

" _Tomorrow…" Maura trailed off. Never before had the word held such a sense of possibility._

 _Tomorrow._

Maura was snapped out of her reverie by Jane reaching for the cell phone perched on her makeshift desk. "No!" Maura lurched forward instinctively, trying to block Jane from her phone.

Rather than look up in surprise, Jane slowed and smiled reassuringly at Maura. "It's a secure line, I promise. These gadgets were developed by the U.S. government for classified conversations. I swear, no one can listen." When Maura did not move to stop her, Jane picked up the phone and hit the number one speed dial. Before completing the call, Jane spoke softly, "I'm calling my captain, Sean Cavanaugh. He's a good man, as far from corrupt as you can get, and he spent two decades with the Boston Police, half that time in Guns and Gangs, chasing after your father. He'll protect you," Jane broke off and furrowed her brow slightly, " _I'll_ protect you."

Maura's shoulders relaxed only slightly, but she gave Jane a nod of assent all the same.

The two women waited in silence as the dial tone droned, and Maura jumped when a gravelly voice picked up on the other end. "You better have a damn good reason for calling me at 7 a.m. on a Saturday, Rizzoli."

Jane snorted, "C'mon Cap, we both know you're up with the sun. Besides, I do have a good reason. Are you alone?"

Maura could hear the man on the other end straighten up, and there was a great deal more seriousness in his tone when he replied in the affirmative.

"I've got a woman and her son here in my apartment, Priority One witness, Frankie brought her in… she's, well you're not gonna believe this Sean, but she's Maura Doyle. Paddy Doyle's undocumented daughter and grandson, sitting in my apartment."

For a long moment there was only silence on the other end of the line, and Maura looked at Jane nervously. Finally, Cavanaugh's voice came through again. "You're right. I _don't_ believe it, or I wouldn't if you didn't sound so damn sure of yourself. Where is she?"

"She's right here. Vigilant enough to listen in, and stubborn enough I couldn't dissuade her if I wanted to."

Cavanaugh sighed, "All right then. Miss Doyle?"

Maura cleared her throat and tried to steady her voice while Jane shot her a smile, "Yes sir?"

"Do you have any proof that you are who you say you are?"

Maura swallowed, she had prepared for this, she knew what to do. Taking a deep breath, she started. "In 1984 Patrick Doyle was 26 years old, and he enrolled in an art class at Boston Cambridge University. He was already well-immersed in the mob, but his face was less well-known, and with a good fake identity, he passed unnoticed. He met a woman, a med student, named Hope Martin. They fell in love, and she became pregnant. My… Paddy kept the pregnancy hidden from his father and uncles, and when Hope went into labour, she refused to go to the hospital, knowing he could never follow. She died in childbirth. Paddy's father, my grandfather, ordered him to abandon me, but Paddy refused. He killed his father and won the loyalty of his uncles, and in June 1985, became known as the Irish mob boss and I became his best kept secret." Maura let out a shaky breath; revealing information, telling secrets she had sworn to keep, she wondered if she would ever get used to it.

Cavanaugh paused only a moment before continuing his questions, "What was your role with the mob?"

"I was their medic; doctor, surgeon, everything."

Prompted to continue by Jane's encouraging nod, Maura obliged, "I never went to school, but Paddy hired various women to tutor me. They… they always disappeared after a few months. I never asked where they went, but when I was seven, I began to teach myself. I loved science the best, and my father always kept me well-supplied with text books.

"When I was fifteen, one of my father's uncles became very ill. I watched him for a few weeks, and eventually screwed up the courage to tell him he had COPD, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. After that, Paddy began to see my potential once more. I had rejected his lessons early on, and refused to participate in any of his activities, but this, medicine, I loved. It wasn't long before I was stitching wounds and by the time I was seventeen, I began extracting bullets from the injured men."

Cavanaugh sighed over the phone, "It's a great story, but we need to put you through the intake process, formalize this."

Both Jane and Maura leaned forward and said " _No._ "

Before they could say anything more, Cavanaugh spoke over them, "I won't lose this testimony just because she went unrecorded, Rizzoli."

Jane opened her mouth to argue, but Maura beat her to it. "Captain, please. I can't go into your offices. Now that I've made contact I need to _limit_ that contact. Before you insist, you should know that your legal clerk, Jonathan Marks, is being paid off by my father to warn him about any new witnesses."

Jane whipped her head around to look at Maura and they could both hear Cavanaugh spluttering on the other end of the line. "You can verify it if you like," Maura began adamantly, "but I will not endanger my son by submitting to your intake processes, and I will not share any more information about Paddy Doyle and his supporters until I am secured in an out-of-state safe house."

The silence stretched for a half dozen seconds, until "Fine."

Maura's shoulders slumped in relief, and she listened while Jane and her boss discussed the details and debated who to involve in providing additional security. Maura nearly spoke up again to stress the importance of a very small circle of knowledge, when she heard Jane do the same.

"We can't let people know about this. She's Priority One, we have to be selective and completely secure." Jane met Maura's eyes as she continued, "I'd like to formally request to be her case officer, sir."

Cavanaugh hesitated, "Normally I would refuse; you're my best investigative marshal, I don't like to let you go for an undetermined amount of time. You're sure about this? Deep cover until the case is closed."

Maura could see no indecision in Jane's eyes when she stated that yes, she was positive, and no, she did not require time to think about it. Finally, Cavanaugh acquiesced.

 _I'll protect you_ , Jane had said. Maura had not truly believed her. She would facilitate her protection, perhaps, but could guarantee nothing. Protection, safety, was never guaranteed.

And yet. Jane did not seem one to say such things lightly, and she had just given up her normal life to keep Maura and Finn safe so long as Maura remained an active witness in the program.

Maura continued to listen closely to Cavanaugh's instructions, and Jane's recommendation of Marshal Vincent Korsak to act as their liaison within the Courthouse and Marshal Barry Frost to escort them to the safe house and facilitate the security of the surrounding area. Before long, they said goodbye, with Cavanaugh promising to contact Marshals Korsak and Frost and to secure a safe-house within 6 hours. Jane was to keep Maura where she was, minimize traffic in and out of the apartment, and pack her bags. They would leave for the safe house when the sun set that night.

 _Safe house,_ Maura thought as she rejoined her son in the kitchen, _Safe_. Finn looked up at his mother anxiously and Maura apologized for taking so long, smoothing his hair reassuringly until he turned back to his drawing. Maura rested her chin on her son's head and wrapped him in her arms.

 _I'll protect you._

 _Safe._

 _Safe._

 _Safe._

I know it's been forever, but I said I wouldn't forget this story and I won't.

Reviews are golden.

R&D


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you all so much for your reviews on the last chapter, they motivated me to get going on this right away! Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

Safe Haven Chapter 6

Maura sat in a sagging—though surprisingly comfortable—leather armchair, surrounded by narrow shafts of dancing sunlight. It was a brilliant day outside, and the build-up of snow on the window ledge gave the light a shimmering quality. On the opposite couch, Finn slept soundly under his mother's watchful eye, wrapped so tightly in a thick woolen blanket that Jane had joked of his resemblance to a burrito. Her laugh was cut short abruptly by the utterly confused looks on the faces of Maura and Finn, but by the time Maura feared she had offended the Marshal by neglecting to laugh at what she suddenly understood had been a joke, Jane was grinning wryly again. Making them promise to call her if they needed anything, she had removed herself to her tiny office to make arrangements for their safe house.

Maura listened intently for a moment until she could decipher the furious clicking of Jane's keyboard in the pantry, and then returned her focus to her son. Her Finn.

His mop of curly brown hair fanned out over the pillow Jane had provided and he had his pinky finger lodged in his mouth. It was a habit Maura had been trying to break since infancy, but one that returned whenever Finn felt bothered or needed comfort. Maura chewed her lip and tried to stave off the waves of guilt that crashed around her. Her dear, darling Finn was sleeping on a stranger's couch, miles away from familiarity, and he would never go home. The mob was not, she reminded herself, a safe or comfortable place to be, but it was everything she or Finn had ever known. That morning, when she had risen from their shared bed in one of the back offices of the warehouse and roused Finn, she had turned her back on everything she had ever known. She could not go back, did not _want_ to go back, but the tenseness in her shoulders did not ebb, and the guilt only increased when Finn stirred and rolled over, revealing the soft grey t-shirt he wore.

Hours ago, when Finn started leaning his head heavily against Maura's shoulder and Jane realized they had been up half the night, Jane had offered them her bed. Maura had insisted she was not tired, and Finn refused to leave his mother's side, so Jane had relented and settled for offering Finn some more comfortable clothes to sleep in. Maura had been grateful, but tense at the realization that she and Finn owned nothing but the clothes on their backs. In spite of the guilt she felt, Maura found herself smiling ruefully at the memory of Finn emerging shyly from Jane's bathroom, clad in an overlarge grey t-shirt, running shorts so loose that their drawstrings were wrapped twice around his waist to keep the shorts in place, and knobbly socks that he had pulled up nearly to his knees. They would have to get him some clothes of his own, but for the time being he had looked so sleepy and shy that Maura's heart burst with love at the sight of him sliding along the hallway in those huge socks.

Now, Maura sighed. Her boy, her darling, her son. Everything was for him, and worry and uncertainty roiled in her stomach. She _had_ done the right thing… hadn't she?

Maura was pulled from her thoughts by Jane's re-emergence in the kitchen, catching Maura's eye, the marshal gestured to Finn and raised her eyebrows. After just a moment Maura understood Jane's question and nodded, yes, Finn was still asleep. Rising to her feet, Maura padded towards the kitchen, pausing only briefly near Finn's head to gently push his hair out of his face.

When she reached the kitchen, she perched herself on the same bar stool she had occupied that morning and looked imploringly at Jane.

"Do you want some more coffee?" Jane asked, busying herself with the kettle.

"Oh, no thank you. Too much caffeine can seriously impact your health, and lead to a whole host of illnesses. You should really restrain from drinking any more than one cup per day." Too late Maura realized it was probably rude to tell a stranger what to drink in their own home, let alone a stranger who had vowed to protect you. Maura felt a brick slide into her stomach, but relaxed when she heard Jane chuckle.

"Hot chocolate then."

Chewing her lip to avoid stating the negative effects of so much sugar in a person's system, Maura sat silently and watched Jane work. She was tall and slender, and Maura could see the muscles in her back and shoulders moving as she reached for a canister of powdered chocolate on a high shelf. Before long, the warm, sweet smell of chocolate washed over her, and Maura was glad she had not spoken against the sugary drink. She had not had hot chocolate since she was a child.

Jane set three steaming mugs on the counter and plopped a handful of marshmallows into each, stirring them into a white foam, and placed a large, purple mug in front of Maura. Just as Maura reached eagerly for the mug, she heard a rustling from behind her and smiled knowingly up at Jane. Finn had surely been roused by the smell of hot chocolate.

"Mom?"

Maura turned around to see Finn's hopeful face peeking up over the back of the couch, and smiled innocently, "Yes darling?"

"What are you drinking?"

Maura looked down at her mug and feigned surprise at seeing it there before her, "Why… I believe this is hot chocolate! And," she continued, looking back towards her son, "I think if you ask politely, Jane may even have a cup for you."

Finn chewed his lip nervously, glancing between his mother and Jane, screwing up his face and his courage until finally, he looked resolutely at Jane and said formally, "Miss Jane, may I please have some hot chocolate?"

Maura bit back a smile at her son's serious face and heard Jane chuckle good naturedly from behind her. "Sure thing, Finn. Come on over and sit with us."

Finn scrambled from his place on the couch and sidled up behind his mother. At Maura's nod of encouragement he clambered onto the high stool and Jane placed a Red Sox mug before him, "I even put some extra marshmallows in it for you," she whispered conspiratorially.

Finn eagerly reached out for the mug, blew at the steam, and took a deep sip. Maura looked at him pointedly until, remembering his manners, he looked up at Jane with a thick, foamy moustache and said earnestly, "Thanks Miss Jane!"

Maura chuckled with Jane this time, and smiled fondly at Finn. He was such a quiet, serious boy sometimes, and so sensible, but moments like these reminded her how young her sweet boy really was. "Don't mention it kiddo," Jane said, "and you can just call me Jane you know."

Encouraged by his mother's nod, Finn nodded seriously, "Okay… Jane."

Jane beamed and handed him a napkin, "I think you've got a bit of a moustache going on," she winked.

Finn blushed and wiped the marshmallow away, before reaching once more for his hot chocolate. Maura followed suit and took her first sip of the rich, sweet drink. Unable to stop herself, she hummed in contentment, then, blushing like her son, spoke softly. "Thank you, Jane."

Jane grinned back at Maura, "When I was a kid, my Ma would make a pot of hot chocolate for my brothers and me, every time there was a storm. But it never tasted so good as when she made it special for one of us, when we were sick or sad. Liquid comfort, she said it was."

Maura was silent for a moment, and Jane looked like she was about to apologize for oversharing when Finn piped up, "Seamus's mom made us hot chocolate too, Mom, the day we had a snowball fight with Dex."

Forcing a smile, Maura ran her fingers through Finn's hair. "That's right sweetheart, she did."

"Mom…" Finn trailed off uncertainly.

"Yes, bug?"

"Well… it's just… Seamus left home, and now we left too… are we going to the same place?"

Maura bit her lip, her heart breaking at the hopeful look on Finn's face. "No, sweetheart," she whispered, "Seamus… Seamus died, remember?"

Finn nodded sadly, "I just thought… I just thought since he left, and now us, and… and Dex looked so sad, like when Seamus left…Grandpa said Seamus went to Heaven, and I thought, well, maybe we were going there too."

Maura noticed that Jane had stepped back, busying herself with tidying the counter on the other end of the tiny kitchen. She knew the woman could still hear their conversation, but was grateful for the guise of privacy all the same. Chewing her tongue, she tried to think of what to say.

Seamus was Dexter O'Shea's twelve-year-old son, and he had always treated Finn like a little brother. He was a quiet boy too, and eager to please his father—Paddy Doyle's right hand man. Ten days previously, Seamus had overheard a conversation between Dexter and Paddy, planning a trip to the Spellano's the following day. The Spellano's were a rival family, and Paddy had just got word of their safe house north of Boston. Paddy was excited, because his insider had reported that two of the three Spellano sons would be present.

Until the Spellano's, Seamus had been kept out of direct harm. Following his father on guard duty, and learning the skills Maura had rejected, but firmly denied whenever he asked to accompany his father in his duties. That night, Seamus crept out of bed and hid in the back of his father's van, armed with a pistol stolen from the gun locker. When Dex and the others showed up and the Spellano's safe house at dawn, Seamus followed them. Dex was furious, and ordered him back to the van, but it was too late. Roused by Dexter's sharp words, the Spellano guards opened fire. Dexter returned to the warehouse hours later, the other men dead, and Seamus bleeding profusely from two bullet wounds to the chest.

He died in Maura's arms as she tried to prep him for surgery. That night, she decided to get Finn out of the mob at any cost.

Shaking her head clear of the memories, Maura focused on Finn, his chin quivering as he asked once more if they would see Seamus again now that they had left home.

"I'm sorry, bug. Seamus is gone where… where we can't see him anymore."

Fat tears spilled down Finn's cheeks and his breathing turned ragged. Maura rested her forehead against his, anchoring him to her, "It's okay, sweet," she soothed. When Finn's breathing returned to normal he pulled away and wiped at his face with the back of his hand.

"Jane," he said, and Jane spun quickly to face them.

Her face confirmed that she had heard their exchange, and she spoke gently, "Yes Finn?"

Finn bit his lip, "I think I need more hot chocolate."

Maura laughed wetly, and kissed the side of Finn's head. He got the slightest smile on his face when Jane placed a second steaming cup in front of him and Maura felt her mind settle.

Yes.

She _had_ done the right thing.

..

Two chapters in two days? That's got to be some kind of record for me! I'll try and keep up with the story more consistently. I'm hoping to give you guys a chapter a week, but we'll see how things go!

Reviews make my day :)

R&D


	7. Chapter 7

Safe Haven, Chapter 7

 **Thank you so much to everyone who left reviews! You make my day and keep me motivated to continue writing. To all those who have asked about Finn's father, I** _ **do**_ **have a plan for that, but you're going to have to wait a couple more chapters!**

 **..**

The sun was hanging low in the sky by the time Maura saw Jane re-emerge from her tiny office off the kitchen. Catching the marshal's eye, Maura rose from her spot on the couch where Finn was watching cartoons and walked toward the kitchen.

"We're all set to head north."

Maura sighed with relief, glancing back to where her son sat on the couch. Despite the brilliant sounds and colours of the cartoons he was watching—a rare treat—Maura felt certain he was listening closely.

"The processing and identity creation normally takes about a week, but during the holidays it can be a little longer, so Cavanaugh found us a secluded cabin in Maine—belongs to a friend of a friend—where we can hang out until your preliminary interviews are finished and we come up with believable back stories. After that, we'll move to a more permanent location under our new identities until the investigations, arrests, and trials are over."

Maura nodded, she was familiar with the process. "When do we leave?"

Jane glanced at her watch, "In about two hours. My partner, Barry Frost, is getting us a vehicle, and he'll pick up some clothes and things for you and Finn." Jane produced a pad of paper and a pen, "Here, make a list of items and clothing sizes and Frost will pick them up… I'm sorry you can't pick things out yourselves, but we really can't let you be seen in Boston."

Maura nodded her understanding and reached out for the pen and paper, accidentally brushing her fingers along Jane's slightly in the exchange. Pausing only slightly at the warmth of Jane's hand and the strange sensation in her stomach, Maura stepped back, "Thank you, Jane."

Flustered, Jane stumbled over her words, "Er, yeah… it's no problem. I'll, uh, leave you to it then."

Maura watched Jane back out of the kitchen with her head tilted quizzically. "Is everything alright, Jane?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. I just… need to go pack some things. Make your list, and when it's ready I'll call Frost."

Jane disappeared down the hallway into her bedroom and Maura turned back to the pen and paper with a furrowed brow before shaking her head resignedly; she was not sure she would ever get used to social interactions. Chewing her lip, she started on her list. The clothing was simple enough, undergarments, warm socks, a few pairs of pants, shirts, and a warm sweater for each of them. After that, it got a little more complicated. Jane had said 'clothes and _things_ ,' but Maura could not decide what Jane meant by _things_. She should have asked Jane to clarify, but her mind was muddled with stress and lack of sleep, not to mention Jane's odd behaviour after she had taken the pen and paper.

Tapping the paper a few times with her pen, Maura made up her mind and rose from her barstool. Placing her hand briefly on Finn's head as she passed, Maura padded down the dim hallway towards the open doorway she knew led to Jane's bedroom. At the entrance she raised her hand to tap lightly on the door frame, but paused before her knuckles hit the wood. Jane had piled her hair on top of her head and was standing barefoot before her wardrobe, hands on her hips, frowning at the collection of clothing hung on wire hangers. Not entirely sure why, Maura lowered her hand and watched Jane closely. With a frustrated sigh she pushed past a half dozen nearly identical blazers and pulled out a deep red knitted sweater, spinning around to place it in the small pile of clothes on the bed.

Mid spin, Maura saw Jane freeze and nearly trip over her own feet, having caught sight of Maura standing in her doorway. Maura took a hurried step forward into the room until she saw that Jane had steadied herself, and then backed up even more quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude-"

Jane held up a hand, effectively stopping Maura's rambling, if only because she noticed for the first time the crescent shaped scar on Jane's palm. Jane did not seem to notice Maura's scrutiny and pressed on with what she was saying "It's okay, really, I just wasn't expecting to see you there. I, uh, I'm having trouble finding… non- _work_ clothes to pack," she finished, nodding at the small heap of clothing on the bed. "Anyway," Jane shook her head, "That's not why you're here."

Maura felt a small smile form on her face at Jane's awkwardness; at least she wasn't the only one. "I'm having trouble too," she admitted, "I've listed some clothes, but I don't know what _things_ means." At Jane's confused look she pressed on, "You said to list some clothesand _things_ that Finn and I might need, and I was… I was hoping you could elaborate on the _things_ part of that…" Maura trailed off. Jane's awkwardness had utterly dissipated and she was looking at Maura with a mix of amusement and… was that fondness? Maura felt herself blush, without quite knowing why.

"I meant things like toiletries, maybe something for Finn to play with? Frost is going to pick up the stuff we'll need for all of us, like flashlights and blankets and food, you just need to list what you and Finn need for yourselves in particular."

Feeling rather foolish, Maura nodded, "Of course. Yes. Thank you, Jane."

Jane grinned at her from across the room, still clutching her sweater, "No worries, Maura. I wasn't clear. Let me know when you're done, yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, yes, I will" Maura backed up again, fighting the flush in her cheeks, before finally turning and heading back to the kitchen to finish her list. What on earth was going on with her?

..

A couple hours later, just as Maura, Finn, and Jane were finishing the last of their delivery Chinese food, a knock on the door, accompanied by a man's voice hollering "Yo Jane! Open up!" startled Maura so severely she nearly spilled chow mein down her front.

"It's alright Maura," Jane said, placing a steadying hand over Maura's, "It's just Frost. He's here to take us to the safe house."

Maura swallowed thickly, her heart still racing as Jane removed her hand and made her way to the front door. Standing quickly, she moved in front of Finn, who stiffened with nervousness as Jane opened the door to reveal a friendly looking man brushing snow off his shoulders. Maura watched as Jane ushered the man inside, shut the door behind him, and spoke tersely in a low voice.

When the man, Marshal Frost, approached her he looked abashed. "Sorry to startle you Miss Doyle," he apologized, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to the door, "Just wanted to stick to our normal behaviour around here."

Maura nodded politely, "Of course Marshal Frost. Thank you."

The man smiled broadly, "You can just call me Frost, seems we're going to be getting to know one another."

Maura could not help but feel a little more relaxed at the man's congenial nature. Jane had chosen well. "Then you can call me Maura, and this," Maura continued, coaxing her son out from behind her, "this is my son, Finn."

Frost smiled and gave Finn a lighthearted salute, "Nice to meet you, Finn."

Maura squeezed Finn's shoulder and caught Jane shooting him a reassuring smile, until after a long pause Finn cleared his throat, "Nice to meet you too Mister Frost."

Frost grinned at the boy once more and turned back to Jane, "I've got my own car out front and an untraceable jeep parked near the Common, already loaded with the duffels. It's about a five-hour drive to the cabin, so we should get there around two in the morning." Redirecting his attention to Maura, Frost continued "Our captain figured it would be best if no one saw us head up to the cabin."

Maura nodded her agreement, "When do we leave?"

She was answered not by Frost, but by Jane, "Now."

There was a brief flurry of activity as Maura zipped she and Finn back into their winter jackets and pulled on their hats and mittens and Jane rushed around the apartment un-plugging appliances and fetching the black gym bag with her clothes and the old backpack filled with notepads and equipment for Maura's interviews. Finally, the action settled and the four of them stood by the apartment door.

Maura caught Jane's eye and nodded. She was ready. Jane smiled in return and pulled the door open. The four of them descended the stairs silently, and it was only in the lobby, after Frost had already headed towards the front door, that Maura felt Finn hesitate. Motioning for Jane to go on, she dropped to her knees before her son.

Pushing Finn's curls behind his ears, Maura met his eyes. She could feel the anxiety radiating from her son, but also read the look of determination in his eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Finn," she said, brushing her thumb along his cheek. "I know it's been a strange day, and I know things feel confusing, but you're doing a wonderful job and you are very brave."

Finn nodded and chewed his lip in a perfect imitation of his mother, then with his small mitten-clad hands he pushed her hair away from her face and said "You're brave too, Mommy."

Smiling shakily, Maura pressed her lips to Finn's forehead as she straightened up, held his hand tightly, and followed the marshals out the door and into the wintry night.


	8. Chapter 8

Safe Haven Chapter 8

 **You folks are seriously the best, thanks for all the reviews, favourites, and follows! Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **..**

 _She was standing in her bedroom; not the warehouse offices she had occupied since becoming her father's medic, but the bedroom she had grown up in. The houses themselves changed almost annually, along with the staff, but somehow her father ensured a nearly identical bedroom in each one. Ivory walls, flowing curtains, a delicate pine desk and feather soft bed. Most importantly, a wall of bookshelves, sagging under the weight of textbooks, journals, and a small collection of novels._

 _Maura spun around slowly, taking everything in. She still had a room like this somewhere, a house she and Finn and her father retreated to for a few weeks at a time, two or three times a year. Those weeks… her father still barked commands into his cell phone, and men stood the perimeter of the property, always isolated, but they felt almost normal. Maura would read to Finn from her childhood favourites; 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Oliver Twist, Peter Pan; until his eyes drooped closed, his breathing deepened. Finn was peace. These houses, this room, they were home._

 _Maura sat on the edge of the bed and fingered the quilted duvet. The room around her had an almost shimmering quality. A knock came at the door and her father poked his head in. Not the man he was in front of his men, but the man he had been for her as a child. Gentle, somehow. "Maura," he said softly, sadly, "My Maura."  
_

 _Looking at his worried face, Maura remembered the nights when she would wake up to find him in those identical rooms. His presence was rare, his work kept him busy, but those nights she would wake to find him in her doorway and they would light lamps and candles. He would sit beside her on the bed and read those same books she later read to Finn. Sometimes, curled up in bed, she would be brave enough to ask about her mother, and her father would tell stories of moonlit walks near the harbour, long nights under the stars. Eventually, her eyes would be too heavy to stay open and he would kiss her forehead, retreat from the room, and disappear for a few more weeks._

" _Maura," he said again, reaching for her._

"Maura, you need to wake up," a hand touched her arm and Maura could feel the warmth through the layers of her jacket. Squinting slightly, she opened her eyes; Jane's face was hovering inches from hers, her brown eyes warm and searching.

"Jane." A whisper.

"C'mon Maura, we're here, we've got to go inside."

"I—I fell asleep?"

Jane smiled softly at her, "Yeah Maura, you fell asleep. Come on, let's get you inside before you freeze to death."

Finally becoming aware of her surroundings, Maura felt the weight of Finn's head on her shoulder, his deep, steady breaths told her he was fast asleep. Looking past Jane, she saw that they had pulled up outside of a log cabin, surrounded by evergreens. An orange glow appeared through the windows and Frost emerged, clapping his hands together to keep them warm as he approached the car.

"I've got a fire lit, and all the bags inside," he said to Jane, his breath forming clouds in the cold night air. "Maura," he grinned, "You're awake, good."

Maura smiled sheepishly back at him, unbuckling her seat belt. Frost leaned into the car and pulled the keys out of the ignition, and Maura realized with a wave of gratitude that they had kept the car on so she and Finn could sleep in the warmth while they prepared the cabin.

"Want me to carry Finn inside? Really no need to wake him up."

Maura smiled at Jane's offer but refused, "I can take him. It's best, just in case he stirs."

Just a few moments later, Maura was trudging through the snow with her son wrapped around her torso. He had stirred just enough to lock his legs around her hips and his arms around her neck before drifting back into sleep, his long hair tickling Maura's chin. There were three steps up to a long wooden porch that groaned under the weight of the piled snow and Maura's steps.

Pushing the door open, Maura entered a pleasantly warm living area with two sagging couches positioned near a fireplace dancing with orange flames. To her right was a basic kitchen with cupboards of peeling green paint and a rusty stove. There was no fridge.

Jane rubbed her hands together and ran a hand through her hair, "It's not much, but it's safe. There's no electricity, but there's a generator out back we can use to power the lights at night, and the stove too, for cooking."

But Maura was beaming, "It's perfect."

Allowing Jane, who had already kicked off her boots, to take Finn from her arms, Maura stepped out of her own boots, peeled off her winter jacket and pushed her hat and scarf into the empty sleeves. Stepping away from the quickly melting snow pooling around their boots, Maura took Finn back from Janes arms. He was finally beginning to stir, and she felt him lift his head.

"Mommy?"

"Shh, it's alright bug." Maura rubbed his back and followed Jane into one of the two doors off the living room, entering a square room, dimly lit by a collection of candles gathered on top of a battered desk. Pushed against the wall was a double bed made up with a warm looking quilt and two slightly lumpy pillows. In the opposite corner of the shadowy room, Maura could see the two duffels Frost had filled for them.

Jane was standing nervously in the doorway watching Maura appraise the room, "There are two rooms, but I thought you might want to share with Finn. If not, you can take the second room. Frost and me are okay on the couches."

"No, it's alright. I'm sure Finn would rather I stay with him." In fact, Finn had tightened his arms around Maura's neck at the mention of her leaving him in this strange room and Maura could hardly help a small smile.

Sitting him gently on the bed—he really was getting quite heavy—Maura pulled off his winter jacket, hat, and mitts and hung them over the back of the wooden chair that accompanied the desk.

"Thank you, Jane," Maura smiled at the woman still hovering nervously near the door.

"You'll be alright?"

Maura paused just for a moment; how long had it been since someone had asked her that? Ignoring that thought, she nodded, "Of course we will, won't we sweetheart?"

Finn nodded his assent sleepily and Jane chuckled. "Alright, well I'm in the next room if you need anything. Frost and I will keep the fire up so it shouldn't get too cold, but there's another blanket in the wardrobe if you need it."

Maura nodded her understanding and turned back to her son, "Say good night to Jane, honey."

Finn, his head already beginning to droop with sleep once more, mumbled "G'night Jane."

Maura smiled at the look of warmth on Jane's face as she said good night to Finn, a smile that widened when Jane looked towards Maura with the same warmth, "Good night, Maura."

"Good night, Jane."

..

 **Sorry this one is a little short. I have more written, but it works better as its own chapter. I'm hoping to finish and upload chapter 9 by Monday or Tuesday to make up for how short this one is.**

 **Thanks for reading! Reviews are golden.**

 **R &D**


	9. Chapter 9

Safe Haven Chapter 9

 **Hey folks! I just want to address some reviews before we get into things. For those of you that were worried about Frost, he and Frankie will come in and out of the storyline, but it centres around Jane, Maura, and Finn. There will be some more action in later chapters (it is the mob after all), but I've set a slow pace I intend to stick to—I think Maura and Finn deserve some fluffy peace before things go crazy.**

Sunlight streamed through a gap in the curtains and Maura stirred. Finn was pressed tightly to her side, sucking softly on his pinky. Giving herself another moment to enjoy his warmth and peace, Maura lay her cheek on his head, unruly curls tickling her nose. She could hear movement elsewhere in the cabin and wondered if it was Frost or Jane. Something she could not identify hoped it was Jane. With a deep sigh, she pulled her son closer, but the moment of peace was gone. It was time to face the day.

Untangling herself from her son and pulling the quilt snugly around him, Maura reached for the jeans and socks she had abandoned the night before. Too tired to go through the duffel bags that Frost had packed them, she and Finn had slept in t-shirts and underwear, but Maura was looking forward to getting a good look in those bags. She had been in these clothes for over 36 hours and was starting to feel extremely grimy.

In her sock feet, she slipped out of the bedroom and into the living area. She could see Frost laying on one of the couches, his blanket pulled up so high over his face to block out the light that his legs remained uncovered from the knees down. Smiling softly at the sight, Maura padded towards the kitchen where she could see a certain brunette muttering in frustration.

"Good morning, Jane."

Jane jumped, nearly knocking her head against the open cupboards. Spinning around with a slightly red face, she saw Maura standing near the round kitchen table, "Morning, Maura."

Maura smiled at Jane's apparent embarrassment. "What's wrong?"

"Oh… I, er, was going to try to make breakfast. But _Frost_ —" Jane shot the snoring man a look of disdain "—forgot to bring oil for the generator. So our choices are limited."

"Oh," Maura said simply, "Let me see what we've got to work with." There had been many mornings in many warehouses that Maura had had to scrounge up a breakfast for herself and Finn without access to a proper kitchen. At her insistence, there was always a small fridge stocked with healthy options, and Finn rarely asked for the greasy fast food the men ate with such fervour.

Half an hour later, Jane was boiling coffee over the fire and Maura had made cheese sandwiches and a rudimentary fruit salad out of the fresh food Frost had brought with them. Setting the kitchen table with chipped and mismatched plates and cutlery Maura was struck by the domesticity of it all, and raised her head to watch Jane, who was crouched near the fire place and stirring the pot positioned haphazardly above the embers. _I'll protect you_ , she had said. Was this part of it? This… normalcy in the midst of chaos?

Before Maura could think on that further, she saw Finn peek his head out from behind his door at the same time as Frost stirred on the couch.

"Do I smell coffee?"

Finn jumped back behind the door as Frost sat up, and Maura crossed the cabin to coax him out of the room. After a few minutes, she succeeded and led Finn back into the living area and adjoining kitchen. Frost was sitting at the table looking sheepish, perhaps Jane had told him about the oil for the generator, and Jane was pouring coffee into three mismatched mugs.

As they ate, Frost explained that they were in the mountains of Maine; there was only one access road that branched off into a half dozen similar cabins in the area and the rest was thickly forested. At the base of the mountain, where the access road merged with a rural highway was a guards' post of sorts, used to track visitors to the area. Frost had managed to get a position there and would be stationed during the night to make sure nobody came up the mountain. He would spend the day at the adjoining cabin, attentive to any action, but allowing the regular rangers to attend to the post. He would also be bringing them fresh supplies. Under no circumstances were Jane, Maura, and Finn to leave the mountain.

"The other cabins are uninhabited at this time of year, but the Cap thinks that family who owns the one furthest down the mountain will come for a few days after Christmas."

Christmas. It had not even crossed Maura's mind. There had been a few half-hearted Christmases when she was a child, but the notion was largely given up by the time she was ten, revived only when Finn was born and Maura recalled the chilly mornings, tingling excitement, and roaring fires. Christmas had quickly turned into cold days, concealed hopes, and falsely cheery roaring fires.

Misinterpreting the look on Maura's face, Frost attempted to reassure her, "It's alright, we've got their photo identities on hand, no one else will be coming past that gate with them. Besides, Christmas is a week away, we might even be out of here by then."

Jane looked across the room, her concern showing that she had better read Maura's features than Frost. As Frost prattled on about daily check-ins, satellite phones, and twice-weekly supply runs Jane and Maura locked eyes across the table. It was something like Maura had never experienced, this non-verbal communication. She and Finn locked eyes in quiet reassurance of the other's presence, but with Jane there was a flurry of questions and answers, without even a twitch of the tongue. It might have been unsettling before, but Maura quite revelled in it now.

Eventually, Jane and Frost stood to survey the supplies in the cabin and make a better-informed list of supplies—like oil. Maura and Finn remained at the table, still working through their sandwiches and fruit. Jane and Frost had torn through their food in a flurry Maura was certain would cause them indigestion, but she and Finn continued their customary meandering; a bite of cheese and soft white bread—Maura would have to request whole wheat next time—some slightly bitter strawberries, and slender pieces of orange, intermingled with quiet conversation as Jane rumbled through the cabin behind them. Maura found herself quite enjoying the woman's particular brand of chaos.

"Mom?"

"Yes, Finn?"

He was looking past her at Jane, who was hopping around making violent gestures—she had stubbed her toe. "She's weird, isn't she?"

Maura chuckled and put her hand over her son's, "Darling, I think that's what we have in common."

Finn looked baffled, but accepted her answer, wiping the last of the fruit juice out of his bowl with his finger and popping it in his mouth. Before Maura could reproach his manners, as he surely knew she would, he hopped down from his seat and made a show of bringing her dishes to the sink.

Chuckling once more, Maura watched him go before swivelling to see Jane looking at her with a small smile. Had she overheard Finn's comment? In another time, Maura might have panicked, felt ashamed and unsure, but now she just smiled with the barest hint of a flush.

As Jane smiled back, Maura mused about before and after. When had she began thinking of her life in those terms? Certainly when Finn was born, but those did not seem to be the parameters any longer. Did before end at her moment of escape? Or did after begin when that green-painted door swung open to reveal Jane Rizzoli for the first time? Maura had a tingling suspicion it was the latter.

..

It was mid-afternoon by the time Maura sat down in the same wooden chair she had occupied for breakfast. The day had been full of going through the supplies Frost had bought—everything she had asked for, plus a deck of cards, a seasonal colouring book for Finn, and a little box of Legos—warming water over the fire to fill a bath tub, bathing Finn and then herself, and working to reduce the thick layer of dust that lay on every surface. She was sure that Cavanaugh's friends had not used the cabin since the last days of summer.

Now, Finn sat in the dusty light streaming through the windows, laying on his stomach near the fire and assembling the tiny pieces of plastic that somehow was supposed to turn into a helicopter. Satisfied that her son was sufficiently distracted, Maura sat opposite Jane and the kitchen table, feeling her nervousness reach new heights. The day had been slow and pleasant so far, and Maura found herself feeling content for the first time in a very long time. But now, now she had to delve into the reasons she was here, had to make her past real again, had to commit the ultimate betrayal against her father and most of the people she had ever known.

"It's alright, Maura." Jane was looking at her softly, and meeting her warm eyes Maura could almost forget the laptop, spiral notebook, and bulky camera sitting atop a mini tripod. Almost.

Maura swallowed and nodded, "Okay," she said, "I'm ready." And somehow, she was. She could hardly ignore the camera, but Jane's attention allowed her shoulders to relax just slightly. Somehow, Jane, the embodiment of what Maura had been taught to fear and avoid, felt safe.

 **Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be the first interview, and one of many glimpses into Maura's life with the mob. I'll try and fit in Finn's father, I know you're all dying to know who he is!**

 **As always, reviews are golden.**

 **R &D**


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